The Lone Twin
by Underworld's-Reject
Summary: 'He'd lost the other half of his heart. He'd lost the other half of himself.' George looks back at his and Fred's relationship. After the final battle. Mentions of twincest.


Summary: 'He'd lost the other half of his heart. He'd lost the other half of himself.' George looks back at his and Fred's relationship. After the final battle. Mentions of twincest.

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything…I kinda wish I owned the twins though.  
><span>AN:<span> Just a little one shot. Third person narrative, but kind of from George's POV. I like the idea that Fred is the older twin, so...He is basically.  
>Warnings: Mentions of twincest, mentions of slash, mentions of violence, angst, grief, mentions of character death.<strong>

**/**

Fred, his older twin by a few minutes, had been there since day one. For as long as George could remember, he'd always been there. And he'd always looked out for him. They'd be inseparable, best friends from the moment they were born. As they grew up they only grew closer. They were twin pranksters; born on April the 1st, April fool's day. What could possibly be more fitting? They were twin balls of loveable chaos.  
>"Best friends forever, right?" they used to say. Wrong. Nothing lasted for ever, not that they would've known that when they were young and care free.<p>

They'd started Hogwarts in 1989, and they knew they'd take the place by storm. Even the sorting hat daren't separate them and, like all the Weasley's before them, they were sorted into Gryffindor. Pretty quickly, they became the renowned Weasley twins- prankster extraordinaires. Genuis jokers. They were rarely serious, apart from when it came to family and especially when it came to each other. No one messed with their twin. Fred had always been particularly protective and George had always liked that, it made him feel safe. They were together through everything. Thick and thin. Through the tough times, and the hard times, and the sad times and the good times.

They'd realised that had feelings (beyond that of brotherhood) for one another at the beginning of the summer after their sixth year, and had gotten together about half way through that very same summer. From that point on, they weren't just brothers, or twins, they were lovers. They'd always been one another's other half, but even more so after they became a couple. They'd had an incredibly special connection right from the start. Once they were together, Fred had become even more protective and looked after him even more than before. It wasn't incest. It was twincest. Not everyone was accepting, but they didn't care. They stuck together, like usual.

In their seventh year, in 1996, they'd joined Dumbledore's Army. Together, of course, because they did everything together and they simply wouldn't have it any other way. It was simple enough; if they weren't together, they weren't complete. They were always on the same page though, always wanted the same things- particularly each other. They weren't just 'Fred' or 'George'- they were Fred _and_ George. The twins. Gred and Forge. Freddie and Georgie.

Joining Dumbledore's Army wasn't they only thing they did that year, not by far. Nor was it the most important thing. 1996 was the year they'd decided that they'd outgrown Hogwarts, and after putting up with Umbridge for far too long they rocketed out of there. Launching themselves out into the world, starting up their business like they'd planned. It was fantastic; it was everything they had imagined and so much more. Freedom and above all else…being with each other 24/7.

They'd joined the order at some point, as a method of fighting back against those bastards. They wanted to try and help change their world. Thus, they were there, both of them, in the final battle of Hogwarts- fighting. They'd been separated somewhere along the line, in the heat of it all.

When George had walked into the great hall and seen the majority of his family huddled around something, he knew a terrible tragedy had occurred. He bolted over to them and parted the crowd. It was far worse than he could've possibly ever imagined. It was his brother, his lover his twin. Silent, lifeless, cold, unmoving. All the things Fred never was. He was dead. He'd broken immediately, dropping by his knees beside his fallen brother. Wretched sobs ripping free from his throat, relentless, burning tears falling from his eyes. He collapsed against his cold twin's chest, weeping with broken abandonment, great tremors shaking his head body. All he wished was to the feel the heartbeat, the warm chest and for those wonderful arms to wrap around him in a loving, reassuring embrace. That soft voice to whisper loving words in his eyes. It didn't happen though. He'd known, in the back of his mind, at the time that it wouldn't.

He'd heard the dull thrum of voices all around him, but they'd seemed so far away at the time and he'd been unable to make out what they were saying. Everything hurt: his eyes, his chest, his _heart_. The grief was so consuming. It was an agony like nothing else, like nothing he'd experienced. It was worse than taking a bludger to the arm, worse than losing his ear and it was even worse than the Cruciatus curse. This pain was so all consuming and seemed never ending. He'd lost him. He'd lost his brother. The other half of his heart had been brutally ripped from him, the other half of himself viciously torn away. Leaving him feeling empty, broken and lost. And the worst part was…he knew he wouldn't _ever_ get him back. It was over. Fred was dead. He sat up and trailed his hands across his brother's frozen cheek for a few moments, the tears still flowing. He collapsed back against him, wrapping his arms around his dead twin, trying to restore his life with his love and warmth. It didn't work, of course it didn't. Nothing would work. Fred was already dead by the time he'd arrived and he had been for a while. And he wouldn't be coming back.

He knew, in hindsight, that he would never get over it. He still hadn't. He'd lost his brother, his twin, his love, the other half of his heart. He was gone. How could he ever got over such a loss? It hurt every, single, day. He'd never get over it, he'd never get over him.


End file.
